Hello this is the first thing I've submitted in a while. This a birthday present for my dear friend Valeska Vampire Queen(who was also my first reviewer and encouraged me to keep writing in the VH section). Apologies for the delay honey but I hope it was worth the wait!

This hasn't been edited by anyone other than myself and I'm deeply worried that this isn't up to par with the rest of my work but I'll let you draw your own conclusions. This is very Verona centric and the Count only makes a brief appearance...I'm sorry for that! Finally, I hope this all makes sense...okay enough rambling! Enjoy!xx

Judgement Day

"Not long now", the shadows seemed to whisper. Encased in her coffin Verona felt like a mouse caught in a trap. Every few seconds she would conjure up the sound of his boots ascending the stone staircase, before realizing that her mind was playing tricks on her. Paranoia was suffocating her and panic was bubbling to the surface. A very small part of her found the fear exhilarating, after all she had not felt any real emotion apart from jealousy or resentment for over four hundred years. The terror coursing through her veins made her blood feel alive, made her feel alive…but the sense of foreboding and dread far outweighed whatever ounce of satisfaction she gleaned from the newly discovered emotion.

Another fear clouded her mind making her feel all the more irrational- she could no longer sense her sisters' presence. There had always been a faint humming, a light buzz that kept the three of them connected but that had now disappeared completely. The almost inaudible hum was like an invisible strand between the three, reminding them of their statuses as his Brides. They existed purely to please him, to worship and obey, to perform his most perverse and twisted fantasies and now…

Silence. Roaring, deafening silence like being submerged in water.

Verona couldn't deny that she had seen the signs, the telltale slips that her sisters' had made that had revealed their plan to her. Their girly chatter had ceased and left behind an uncomfortable stillness. They had been blossoming girls when he plucked them from their lives and had acted as such for over three centuries. Only recently had they given up the pretence of their youth, had finally allowed their zealous sparkle to die.

Some people weren't able for eternity, weren't capable of settling for an unchanging life…Verona being one of the few exceptions.

However, this didn't mean that she couldn't see the internal conflict in others. Aleera and Marishka had succumbed to their depression, that much was clear. Otherwise they would have woken her by now. As she was the eldest bride, it always took her slightly longer to awaken from the deathlike sleep…..which meant that the master took longer also.

As her fear subsided(for the moment at least) her mind recalled her sisters' final moments. She didn't want to see their last memory but it hit her like a wave crashing against the tide and she couldn't look away.

The sun hid behind a cloud, peeping out at them like a shy child, small bars of light gradually escaping. In seconds it would greet them and return them to death. Permanently.

Marishka and Aleera stood atop the tallest tower of the castle, hand in hand. Sisters in death. All jealousy of the other had vanished from their faces. They were together in their final moments and it wasn't in anyway about him.

As the sun pushed aside the cloud to greet them they flew to meet it halfway and as they soared higher and higher their flesh began to tear away, their hair shrivelled and all turned to dust…and darkness.

Verona shuddered. She knew that had they attempted this years ago she would have rejoiced in having her master to herself again. However, she knew him better now. Or rather, she finally saw him for what he was. He was not a man to keep separate valuables…he needed the complete collection. This is what Verona feared - that he wouldn't want her without the other two. He couldn't replace one or two brides…he needed to replace all three.

As if on cue she heard his boots clicking on the stone staircase and she felt the overwhelming urge to giggle. Hysteria rippled inside her itching to escape. She felt a tug inside of her as he climbed closer and closer…she swore her heart almost came to life so great was her terror.

She propelled her mind into action…she couldn't overpower him but she could buy time. Time to persuade him to keep her…even if she had to lick his boots clean for all eternity she would sacrifice her dignity to live.

Her one chance at survival was to rise from the coffin before he entered. He was probably hoping to kill her quietly in as civilized a manner as possible. No struggle, no tussle just a quick, clean kill. He was a gentleman after all. Oh, he would be vicious if necessary….but in general he liked to keep his hands clean. She needed to distract him….he was outside her door, she could feel him…she flung herself from her sanctuary and onto the stone cold floor.

Act! she all but hissed to herself. Play the mourning sister.

The door opened and before he could greet her with some false kindness, she burst into tears. A waterfall of red poured from her eyes, smearing her hands and ruining her gown. Part of her was disgusted with herself, the way she was blubbering like a little girl. Her desperation made her forget whatever pride she had left. As far as she could remember he had never seen her cry even when she was alive. She continued weeping, hoping to stun him.

"They….they've gone master!"

She received no response. No comfort, no disapproval at her outburst…nothing. Instead of meeting his gaze Verona continued her sobbing until her tears started to run on the floor. He clicked his tongue, the first time he'd reacted to her on entering.

She finally gathered the courage to look up, to meet his icy gaze. She needn't have worried. He was staring at the pool of blood on the floor. Again he clicked his tongue.

"Igor scrubbed these floors yesterday….the blood will spoil his hard work."

She didn't know how to respond. The reply was callous, even for him.

He met her eyes then and smiled. She longed to recoil from this as it was even more frightening than when he was in a rage. His sinister smile always spelt disaster.

"And I always thought the task of making you shed a tear would be like getting blood from a stone."

Whatever calm she still possessed truly ruptured then and the resulting giggles were even more frenzied than her sobs.

"Darling, we'll be late if you don't make yourself presentable as soon as possible."

That silenced her. She glanced up again and found a handkerchief a hair's breadth away from her nose. She took it and nodded her thanks.

After cleaning her face she stood facing him and voiced her concern.

"Where are we going?"

"Vilkova Palace…our final send off if you will….in the morning we will meet the sun together. No one should die alone."

With that he turned and left, leaving her to follow like a lapdog. She caught up and linked her arm with his.

The terror subsided and a strange serenity overtook her. She would die…but she would take him with her….they would turn to ash together and swirl together in the wind….her final thought on the matter was a petty one but she couldn't stop it nonetheless. My sisters would be jealous.

I guess what I was trying to get across was that, given a smidgen of hope from Dracula alters all the Brides' attitudes instantly. Verona came to terms with how superficial her life was but when he gave her the 'luxury' of them dying together she relapsed back to her petty, jealous self. Aleera and Marishka died knowing the truth but she will die delusional...okay sorry for the analysis! Thanks for reading! Review!

Brat~